Missing Miriam: Ki Tissa 5779

I feel sympathy for Aaron. While his brother Moses is enjoying a one on One visit with God on top of Sinai, Aaron faces a restive crowd below, desperately trying to hold them off. As Rashi notes, Aaron’s suggestion that the people surrender their jewelry was a delaying tactic until Moses would return, but the people readily relinquished their gold. If you look at Rashi’s description of how the calf was made, you see an unusual amount of Aggadah—Aaron tossed the metal in the fire, but magicians came and used charms to fashion the form, or perhaps it was the prophet Micah who somehow had a divine Name with him, and used it to try to summon Joseph (“the ox” based on his blessing in Deut. 33:17) to rise from his coffin to save the day, but it backfired, and out came the calf.

This Midrash reconciles the account with Aaron’s later description in 32:24 of a passive role and a miraculous result, but it seems quite implausible. Rashi often almost apologizes for offering Aggadah, but not here—I sense that like us, he is uncomfortable with the failure of Aaron to act more decisively, to rebuke the people and refuse their request, even at risk to his own life. Moses will have none of it, asking Aaron, “What did this people do to you that you have brought such great sin upon them?” Aaron’s excuse is lame—don’t you know the people are “bent on evil?”

We can speculate whether Aaron’s failure here is the backstory for the gruesome incineration of his sons Nadav and Avihu in Leviticus, but I ask that we identify a bit more closely and sympathetically with Aaron. After all, each of us is preparing for religious leadership (yes, even those of us who have been at it for decades), and each of can anticipate moments when we will face demands to abandon our religious or moral compass to satisfy our constituents. Will we have the courage in such moments to stand strong for principle? Will we try to delay or distract? Or will be cave in and rationalize our actions? In the Talmud (b. Megillah 25b) Rashb”i notes that Aaron’s sin may have been more subtle—he didn’t speak clearly when the crisis began, and thus opened the way to misunderstanding and misconduct. How difficult it is to lead decisively when faced with confusing and frightening realities!

I am looking at the landscape of contemporary Jewish life in America, in Israel and beyond, and I feel deep concern over the pressures being put on our leaders. There are political alliances forming on both left and right, both here and there, with people who are filled with hatred and bent on destruction. There are pressures to abandon principle, to cease to stand for Jewish values, to back away from core commandments, all in pursuit of an elusive and unruly horde.

I don’t know that Moses distinguished himself in the episode of the calf either—perhaps he stayed too long on the mountaintop and lost track of his people (as another rabbinic tradition posits). When God says “go down” (לך רד) the rabbis perceive a divine rebuke–your people have sinned, what need have I for you? Perhaps Moses was too harsh in his response to both Aaron and the people. It seems almost as if Aaron is standing here for Hesed—a loving and gentle approach that is incapable of resisting destructive forces, while Moses is standing for Gevurah—a strong but harsh response that cannot work with a messy reality. We need a middle approach—we need Miriam! She demonstrates both strength and compassion in her leadership profile, and her absence here leaves the people of Israel in danger. The middle way of strength and compassion is the way of glory, Tifereth, and it is the example which we should all seek to follow.